Luyện nghe bài hát Rock Drill/Iron Ration

It us some time as it's taking up yours
- we had the furnace, the and the ore.
But as things stood, we needed a
I consider the Pope, I you.
But the Pope ain't got enough for me
and he no Tatra 603.
So beat is Stef-f, Raz joins the chorus
needs Pon-X, Mars needs Humble Boris
Sound is OMNITRON, the of steel
- No 98-Olds, no
But the Trans-Siberian grind railroad,
the sure-win toad eat toad.
The jamming station,
the strip-mining and the Iron Ration:

An I for an I at the current of exchange;
reduction, another target in range.
Burning - what a smell!
Silly goat - my hell?
Got no soul - what to
The better hand with the upper few as it
the alarm punched the jaw of my jingle-bell dreams
Dog eat hot dog takes the loss but made no
and the lost their taste in the mouths of the well-behaved kids.

and noise
drink and
The around.
More often less
we drink to
The past us down.

Honk if you the Saviour, sing him a song.
If the leopards to the bones, should they just sing along?
love - what a smell!
Silly goat - where's my
Got no - what to sell?
Can we have more faith in him than in publicity
or science fill our heads as it fills our lives?

The Second Coming in a second or too late, or
another fiction seeking creator.
There are so many that we may have to live in
- the past be given.

Laughter and
and rejoice
The around.
rise
to fill our
we drown.

Honk if you to bonk up the honky tonk teenies.
Industrial history offers some pretty sceneries.
Buffalo soldiers, splice your tapes and
for the earth policy has us all up for a ride.

The COMECON in romper suit and felt-pen moustache;
stone-faced ancestors up by hustlers.
Unlike the little pigs and who die in the telly
our ends be smelly.